Різдвяна історія
Chapter 1
Nowindthatblewwasbittererthanhe,nofallingsnowwasmoreintentuponitspurpose,nopeltingrainlessopentoentreaty.Foulweatherdidn’tknowwheretohavehim.Theheaviestrain,andsnow,andhail,andsleet,couldboastoftheadvantageoverhiminonlyonerespect.Theyoften‘camedown’handsomely,andScroogeneverdid.
Nobodyeverstoppedhiminthestreettosay,withgladsomelooks,‘MydearScrooge,howareyou?Whenwillyoucometoseeme?’Nobeggarsimploredhimtobestowatrifle,nochildrenaskedhimwhatitwaso’clock,nomanorwomaneveronceinallhislifeinquiredthewaytosuchandsuchaplace,ofScrooge.Eventheblindmen’sdogsappearedtoknowhim;andwhentheysawhimcomingon,wouldtugtheirownersintodoorwaysandupcourts;andthenwouldwagtheirtailsasthoughtheysaid,‘Noeyeatallisbetterthananevileye,darkmaster!’
ButwhatdidScroogecare!Itwastheverythingheliked.Toedgehiswayalongthecrowdedpathsoflife,warningallhumansympathytokeepitsdistance,waswhattheknowingonescall‘nuts’toScrooge.
Onceuponatime—ofallthegooddaysintheyear,onChristmasEve—oldScroogesatbusyinhiscounting-house.Itwascold,bleak,bitingweather:foggywithal:andhecouldhearthepeopleinthecourtoutside,gowheezingupanddown,beatingtheirhandsupontheirbreasts,andstampingtheirfeetuponthepavementstonestowarmthem.
